Page 9 of Lethal Souls

SIX

WILLOW

“That’s Hannie!” I watch Killian push through the crowd to meet her at the bar.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Caz asks.

“I met her when I went with Juniper to Iron Class. The first time we visited Vanora, remember? She’s a rebel.”

“Ah.” Caz raises his chin, scoping the ceiling. “I can see why Killian’s after her then.”

“She was there that night in Iron Class when the whole shootout thing happened.” Which I still can’t get over, by the way. I’d never seen so much chaos in one place. “Hannie took us to the party and got into a fight with some other Gilded guy named Tomán.”

“She’s Gilded?” Caz’s eyes stretch with surprise. “Fuck. That won’t end well.”

“Why not?”

“Because Gilded don’t get to choose who they belong to. Eventually—if it hasn’t happened already—she’ll be forced to marry some Gilded man to keep the bloodlines sacred. It’s what keeps them strong.”

I return my attention to Killian who towers over Hannie as she peers up at him with doe eyes. Then Hannie takes his hand and drags him away from the bar.

When they disappear, I can’t help smiling. I knew they had a thing for each other. I just hope it’s not as deep as it looks… for Killian’s sake.

“Come.” Caz holds on to my hand, leading the way to one of the less packed bars. The counters are made of glass and lined with gold. Drinks are stacked all over and apparently have a replenishing spell happening because every time the bartender pours from one of the bottles, the bottle instantly fills up again.

Caz orders a wine for me and a whiskey for himself, and we move away from the bar just as we notice Alora sashaying in our direction.

"Oh, my Regals. Look at you two!” she squeals, throwing her hands in the air.

“Look at us? Look at you,” I shoot back, smiling.

She grins, twirling in her sky-blue ballgown. Most of her hair is pinned up with curly, dark wisps dangling around her face. I swear she reminds me of a brown Cinderella right now. All she needs are glass slippers.

“You like?” Her smile is bold as she curtsies. “Oh, Willow, you are absolutely gorgeous tonight, my love.” She steps toward me, clasping my face in her hands and kissing both my cheeks. “And you, Caspian. Oh, look at you.” She presses a hand to her heart. “Rosy cheeks? Dressed to impress? Willow is really doing a number on you, isn’t she? You’re so in love. Look at you!”

Caz can’t help nodding, though his face does redden. I fight a laugh. He’s so easily embarrassed.

“You look incredible, Alora,” he says. “And the night is beautiful. Your team did a wonderful job putting this together on such short notice.”

“Oh, thank you, but believe me, it was a disaster at first. Several of the chandeliers broke during installation, and they really struggled with the exterior garnishes. But all is well now, and we’re here to have fun.” She leans in, saying, “The rooms for monarchs and their ladies are in the right wing if you feel the urge to use them.”

I bust out laughing while Caz’s face burns a brighter red. “Thank you for the reminder, Alora.”

“Well, I’m just saying—because you’ve never used them, is all. I didn’t know if you’d forgotten or?—”

“I haven’t,” Caz says before sipping his whiskey.

She shrugs with a smile. “Right. Well, good. Willow deserves to be treated on this special night.”

Love of Vakeeli.

I laugh.

Glass shatters across the room, and a wave of gasps fills the air.

Alora sucks her teeth. “Should’ve known something would happen. Better check that out. Have fun, you two. I’ll catch you again when things slow down.”

Alora strolls away with Proll trailing her, and when she’s gone, Caz turns to me and says, “You really get a kick out of her embarrassing me, don’t you?”

---